The Art of Saying Goodbye
by Sahara Storm
Summary: [Oneshot, KuroFai] Fai doesn’t want to make him choose, but Kurogane will not let this be goodbye.


**Title:** The Art of Saying Goodbye

**Fandom:** Tsubasa RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE

**Pairing:** Kurogane/Fai

**Rating:** PG-13.

**Word Count:** 1,275

**Summary/Description:** Fai doesn't want to make him choose, but Kurogane will not let this be goodbye.

**Warning/Spoilers:** Shounen-ai. (!) A bit of cursing, and suggestiveness. I am way out of touch with the manga (I'm on Ch. 89, and I've probably forgotten half of what I've read), so please forgive any OOC-ness.

**A/N:** Written for Aki-omoi's weekly challenge. Prompt: _Marching Bands of Manhattan _by Death Cab for Cutie. Alternative theme: _I am only practicing the art of saying goodbye. _I suck so bad at Fai-POV. _So **bad**. _Pikachumaniac, if this comes too close to anything that you've written in 'Sacrifice', feel free to hop on the next flight to T'dad and beat me up. I'll hold still, if you'd like.

**Disclaimer:** Who in their right mind would mistake me for CLAMP? Have you seen them? They're hot. Not to mention that there're four of them and one of me.

* * *

It was around two o'clock in the morning that Fai woke up, feeling warm and sweaty. A couple of strands of his pale blond hair were plastered to his face; he pushed them aside as his light blue eyes peeled open. The room was encased in an irrefutable darkness that made it seem as if he was still within a deep, deep slumber.

When his eyes adjusted to the blackness, the mage realised that it was not _his_ room that he was currently occupying. The room that Tomoyo-hime had had aired out for him was done up in shades of blue, with robin's eggs walls, cerulean tapestries and cobalt carpeting. The princess had correctly assumed that he would enjoy its sunny airiness, and the balcony that overlooked the courtyard below. This room, however, was unlit, and full of shadows. The only colour that Fai could make out was the dark green of the curtains.

He ascertained where he was when a tanned arm arced out of the darkness to drape over his bare waist. Kurogane's face edged out into the light a few moments later. The ninja was still sleeping; the tips of his lashes lying against the sharp curve of his cheek, chest heaving lightly, body taut and tense even in repose. His nose wrinkled, and he grunted something along the lines of, "Stupid mage."

Fai smiled softly at the endearing sight. He brushed back a few locks of black hair, and briefly contemplated jarring his big doggy awake with a wet, soppy kiss, or a huge squeezing glomp, but for the pleasure of having Kuro-ko chase him around a room with a pointy object, teeming with rage, while he pranced about gleefully. One last time.

He didn't, though. Kuro-tan deserved his sleep, if nothing else. And if he awoke now, he would stop, and he would think, and he would realise. He would be forced to make a decision. And Fai didn't want to be the one to make him choose.

From the moment that Mokona had spat them out of his mouth, he had known. There had been no mistaking the look on Kuro-pon's face; one of surprise, one of recognition, one of relief. The warrior had examined the tall towers of the castle in the distance, its curving parapets and elaborate banners, and nodded gruffly. If Fai had had any remaining doubts, they would have been erased when Kurogane barked at a nearby guard to take them to wherever the princess currently was. The young man had reacted instantly with bumbling compliance, tripping over himself in his haste to obey. Never mind the fact that Kuro-chan had that effect on a lot of people; it was obvious that the guard knew the warrior.

They had all been welcomed very graciously by Tomoyo-hime, who was a lovely, whimsical girl whom Fai liked very much. Even when Kurogane had been bickering with her, – something or other about the curse – and when she had lightly reprimanded him for being too gruff for something or the other, the wizard could see it; she cared a great deal for the ninja, and though Kuro-wan might not readily admit it, the reverse was also true.

Through his relief at finally being home, Fai could sense the same uneasiness in Kurogane that he himself was plagued with. This would, he realised, be their last few days together. Syaoran was already following a lead on the feather; it wouldn't be too long until Mokona was ready to move on.

Fai knew that there was a corner of Kurogane's heart, in which he felt that same pull, that same attraction that was shrouded by nonsensical smiles and silly words. He would not speak of this curling feeling inside of him that wished Kurogane would not stay, though. He was loath to be the one to put that heaviness in the air. Neither would he contemplate remaining here himself; it was far too dangerous.

Foolishly, and perhaps unfairly, he had walked Kurogane to his room last night; a mundane thing in itself, there being opportunities aplenty to bait the ninja, and aggravate him as usual. What had been completely beyond the norm, was the kiss that Fai had unthinkingly planted on the warrior's lips in a moment that had been so achingly _right_. What had followed had been their first, and almost certainly last night together.

Fai would take it, hold it, cherish it. He was used to having to settle for what he got.

It would be morning in a few short hours. Fai's smile became crookedly melancholy, and he wished with everything in him that he could stay here, with Kuro-chuu's arm around him, warm and relaxed, and be there when the ninja woke up to grin playfully at him, and tease him on whatever subject first flew to his head. He couldn't, though. He shouldn't, and he wouldn't.

He removed the brown arm from his waist with a hand light of touch. Slowly, he slid off the bed, found his clothes, and donned them. He pressed a light kiss to his lover's forehead before leaving the room, without once looking back.

He couldn't give him much, but for the very least, he would not make him suffer through having to choose.

* * *

"I'll give you impotent, you damn imp."

Kurogane growled this sleepily, brows knitted at the middle of his forehead. At the same time, a hand reached out to pull the blond closer, and thereby make unwaveringly clear his virility.

His hand grasped bedding, and nothing more.

He jerked upwards, quickly shaking off sleep and its after-effects, sanguine eyes sweeping across the room, which was lit with the light of the early morning sun. When his search yielded up no trace of any lanky, blond nuisances, a scowl cut into his lips.

Damn it, he had left. Kurogane swung his legs off the bed, and swiftly sought out his pants, frown becoming deeper by the second. They hadn't even had a chance to make a decision, talk a little… Hell, if there was anything they _didn't_ do last night, it was speak. The time for words had long passed, and the two men had spoken only through touch and mind and breath, on what they had assumed would be their first and last night together. Last night had been one of newness and fullness, heated skin and breathless sounds, gentle kisses and harsh touches, long limbs locked together as if shackled.

But there was _no way_ in any of the seven circles of hell that Kurogane was going to let Fai leave it at that. He threw on his shirt, buttons flew through holes without regard. There was no way that he was going to let the mage burst into his life, drive him to his boiling point and then some, make him _feel_ something for him, something that he had in a time long before dismissed as frivolous and useless, and then flounce away as if this was all… _meaningless_.

_No fucking way._

A quick glance out the window assured him that the dimension travellers had yet to depart; the manjuu was in the courtyard annoying/befuddling/bewitching a crowd of people. Satisfied, Kurogane stalked out of his room, with long purposeful strides and resolution in his eyes. He was going to find him, and they were going to talk. He was not going to let him depart like that, let him feel that they were going to leave it like this, perched on the edge of a precipice with a long way down and no way back.

He was _not_ going to let this be goodbye.

* * *

**A/N: **Any suggestions or concrit would be lovely. Comments and reviews are just as nice. 


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